


May I call you Mister Sun?

by chickwen



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Curse Breaking, Curses, Family, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Gods, Historical Fantasy, Illiteracy, Illnesses, Immortality, M/M, Mentioned Kageyama Miwa, Mentioned Kageyama Tobio, Mentioned Yachi Hitoka, Mentioned Yamaguchi Tadashi, POV Alternating, Pining, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, atsumu simps for hinata but when does he not, look it sounds off but its relevant to the plot, running out of tag ideas uhhhhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26473969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chickwen/pseuds/chickwen
Summary: “Uhm, my little sister is sick,” Shouyou answered. “And my family just never found a reason to go.”Atsumu stared at him with gooey, honey brown eyes and grinned again, “You’re a horrible liar.”—An otherworldly, historical love and family story in two parts.—Alternatively titled: お日さんと狐さん (Mister Sun and Mister Fox)
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	May I call you Mister Sun?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chickwen_fangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chickwen_fangirl/gifts).



> thank u to chickwen_fangirl who sort of beta-ed this i love u with my entire heart and our friendship is absolutely _everything_ to me, thank u for constantly gassing me up in everything i do mwah. i wanted to surprise you with the whole story at once but then i got lazy so be sort of surprised with this slightly embellished version of what u read. <3  
> —  
> please enjoy ! i'm still trying to figure out how to write them in character so please forgive any glaring ooc-ness

Shouyou met Miya Atsumu on a cold autumn’s day while visiting the shrine to pray for his little sister.

He climbed up the winding path alone as none of his newly made friends were available to show him the way. Shouyou didn’t want them to know his reason for being there either. He didn’t want to move to another village just yet.

The cloth of the bag in his hands grew damp in his hold as he approached the faded red, weathered torii gate. Shouyou bowed and passed through. Twin stone foxes stared at him, jowls pulled back by bundles of rice, red fabric fluttered around their necks and Shouyou felt as if they watched him.

He swallowed and wondered if they knew what soiled him so.

Shouyou hesitantly made his way to the fountain and reached for the ladle. Just before his fingers met the wood, someone spoke to him.

“You know you have to wash your left hand first, right?”

Shouyou jolted and turned around to see a tall boy with sun-bleached hair and lazy, cunning eyes. Cunning eyes colored almost gold that stared at him in a way that reminded Shouyou of the fox statues back at the torii gate. He wore the most beautiful and expensive-looking kimono Shouyou ever saw. A brilliant red overcoat embroidered with flowers and dark hakama. He must have been a priest in training or something.

He looked back at his left outstretched hand and dropped it quickly. Shouyou smiled sheepishly and ducked his head, “Oh, uhm, yeah! I did! Must have just slipped my mind.”

The boy offered a foxlike grin and laughed, “You’re a horrible liar. Have you ever even been to a shrine before?”

“Uh...” Shouyou’s smile wobbled and the boy snorted.

“Weirdo. You must have terrible luck if you don’t do your hatsumode,” the boy said. Shouyou watched as he walked over and grabbed a ladle with his right hand and scooped some water. “Here. I’ll show you how to do it.”

“Oh! Okay, thank you!” Shouyou split his cheeks with a smile and then placed his sachet on the ground and copied the boy’s movements.

Together they washed their hands and mouths. Shouyou diligently tried to match them perfectly but:

“You have to use more water than that,” the boy pointed out. “It won’t hurt you, be generous.”

Shouyou still flinched when the cold water hit his palm, expecting it to scald him. Instead, it just chilled his skin and he breathed out a sigh of relief. Though, he still hesitated when washing out his mouth.

All the while, the boy watched him intently. Eyes wide and calculative and untelling in a way that made Shouyou’s heart beat faster.

“I’m Atsumu,” the boy said after they finished.

“Hi— Shouyou,” he replied.

“Hi-shouyou?” Atsumu asked with a teasing smile and a tilt of his head.

Shouyou flushed and wiped his hand on the plain, undyed linen of his simple shirt, “I meant Shouyou.”

“Shouyou,” Atsumu repeated. “The soaring sun.”

“Uhm,” he paused to think for a moment. “Atsumu… to eat?”

Atsumu laughed bright and loud and smiled once more like a fox.

Shouyou felt his infectious laughter and grinned right back with the force of a thousand suns. Interestingly, he then saw Atsumu’s cheeks go pink from the autumn chill all at once.

Atsumu was nice. He showed Shouyou where and how to pray (bow twice, clap twice, bow again). He then spent the rest of the afternoon asking him questions. How old is he? Does he have any siblings? Where is he from because his accent sounds different? What is he praying for? Why hasn’t he ever been to a shrine?

The last two questions made Shouyou falter.

He imagined his hands and gums seared by the oppressive heat of divine purity. The burn spread over his whole body quickly and viciously until he collapsed and ended up a pile of ashes on the stone laid ground. Atsumu watched him disintegrate and the wind carried his defiled dust away into the forest to mix with the dirt that poisoned the earth. The trees grew dead and the water blackened, and the people of the village needed to move away from the disease that slowly consumed the world. But no such thing came.

The red, gold, and yellowing green leaves of the trees surrounding the area still spoke of good health and the birds still sang their happy songs.

“Uhm, my little sister is sick,” Shouyou answered. “And my family just never found a reason to go.”

Atsumu stared at him with gooey, honey brown eyes and grinned again, “You’re a horrible liar.”

When the sun started threatening to hide under the mountain skirts, Shouyou remembered the brown sachet of uncooked rice hanging from his wrist. He yelped and stared in horror.

“Oh no! I forgot to give my offering! I just used the branches!”

Atsumu reached for Shouyou’s left wrist to grab the bag. As soon as his fingertips made contact with Shouyou’s skin, he jolted and recoiled his hand as if Shouyou burned him. His eyes widened and for a second Shouyou could have sworn that the boy’s irises turned pure gold for a second from the difference in light. However, no anxiety grew in his chest as long thin fingers carefully tugged the bag off Shouyou’s wrist.

“You know, it’s common for people to cook the food before they offer it,” Atsumu said as he peered down at the small portion of grains inside the pale-yellow sun embroidered bag.

Shouyou frowned deeply, “I messed it up twice then…”

Atsumu’s face turned into a noh mask for a second before he smiled again, “It’s okay. I’ll take care of it for you.”

That afternoon, Shouyou went home with the joy of having made a new friend and the anxious hope that his little sister would soon get better.

The next morning, Shouyou woke up to the sound of Natsu heaving into the pail next to her futon and felt that hope dim.

He opened the door with the pail of acrid fluid in his hand. Shouyou needed to throw it out and then wash out the bucket before it attracted insects. He took two steps out of the house when something crunched under his foot.

Shouyou looked down and saw a small bundle of yellow mums tucked inside the bag he used to carry the rice in. Something like hope bloomed once more.

-

One week later, Shouyou returned to the shrine.

He bowed and walked right through the middle of the torii gate. He went to the fountain and washed his hands, correctly this time and with more water. As he walked through the courtyard, he looked around for a boy with sun-bleached hair and a fox-ish grin. Atsumu was nowhere in sight.

Shouyou felt slight disappointment but proceeded to offer his (cooked) rice to a miko and fumbled through the praying. He forgot how many times he needed to clap and bow and what order, but he tried his best. Clapped thrice, bowed once, and clapped thrice again.

“It’s bow twice, clap twice, bow once.”

Shouyou turned and saw Atsumu sitting off to the side with an amused grin again.

“You also have to put your right hand lower, to lower yourself for the gods.”

Shouyou stuttered out an excuse and then tried again. Atsumu laughed at his attempt and waved off his nerves, “You’ll get it eventually.”

“I hope so,” Shouyou said with his own, embarrassed laugh. He thought back to his sister’s gaunt face and cursed himself. Again.

“You also can’t walk in the middle of the torii gates, you have to leave room,” Atsumu informed.

Shouyou rubbed the back of his neck with a hesitant smile, “Oh. Oops?”

“You’ll get it,” Atsumu assured.

He smiled like the sun once more and nodded resolutely, “Yeah, I will.”

Once more, Atsumu’s cheeks suddenly showed the effects of the autumn chill. He looked almost as if he took two red maple leaves and stuck them on his cheeks.

-

Shouyou continued to visit the shrine to pray for his little sister. Atsumu continued to pop up at asynchronous times to point things out and to seemingly just talk to Shouyou.

It’s fun. He liked that it brought him comfort and eased his nerves around the shrine. Soon enough, Shouyou felt good enough to be more open.

“And then Kageyama-kun got all _grah_ while Tsukishima got all _hrrgh_ and then Kageyama challenged him to another duel!”

“That sounds like it was fun to watch,” Atsumu commented.

They sat on the top steps together looking at the world beyond the lacquered gate.

Hinata nodded, “Yeah. You should come and meet them sometime. I think Yachi-san and Yamaguchi will like you a lot. They’re really nice too!”

Atsumu’s face went distant and Shouyou couldn’t read him, not that he ever could. He smiled after a moment and nodded, “They sound fun.”

“They are—”

“Shouyou-san.”

He turned around and looked at the miko who stood with her hands primly folded over her vibrant red hakama, not as brilliant as Atsumu’s, but still eye-catching. Shouyou blinked and tilted his head questioningly, “Yes?”

“Are you okay? You’ve been sitting out here by yourself for a while now,” the girl pointed out.

Shouyou furrowed his brows and looked at Atsumu for confirmation.

Only the spot next to him was empty and the other boy sat nowhere in sight.

Something skittered in the corner of his eye. Shouyou looked over and saw a large fox standing near where the woods began, eyes golden and familiar in an odd way. It stood there, staring at Shouyou before it turned and darted into the woods.

“Shouyou-san?”

He blinked and looked back at the girl looking at him in concern.

“There was— I was talking to Atsumu,” he said.

She said nothing and turned back toward the shrine after throwing a worried glance his way.

That afternoon, Shouyou returned home confused and thinking about a boy who could disappear in an instant.

-

In the winter, Natsu showed no signs of improvement. Shouyou feared the worst and went to the shrine more often but stayed for shorter periods.

Kageyama and his sister dropped by regularly to give them food or to check on them. Sometimes Yachi came with Yamaguchi. Tsukishima visited occasionally. Someone else visited every night and left herbs or out-of-season vegetables on their porch. Shouyou knew it was Atsumu, though he found it weird that Atsumu never came during the day or even popped in to say a greeting.

One night, Shouyou tried to stay awake to catch Atsumu but he fell asleep as soon as Natsu stopped her pitiful writhing.

The next morning, bright yellow daffodils blinked up at him with all their petals with a small note wrapped around the stems.

-

“You could come during the day, you know,” Shouyou said. “Natsu wants to meet you. I think she’d like you a lot.”

Atsumu shrugged and lay back in the snow, fingers laced behind his head, “Nah. ‘S more fun like this.”

“How is it more fun?”

“Just is.”

“You’re weird, Atsumu-san,” Shouyou laughed. He then fished out the note from his pocket and showed it to the other boy. Atsumu took one look at the paper and his cheeks turned redder from a particularly cold gust of wind. “Also, what does this say? I can’t read.”

Atsumu frowned and turned his head away, “It says ‘try not to die’.”

Shouyou furrowed his brows, “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” He grinned again but didn’t feel it in his heart, “You sound just like Kageyama!”

“You talk about him a lot,” Atsumu said suddenly.

Shouyou felt confused, “Uhm, yeah? He’s my best friend!”

“Your friend,” Atsumu repeated.

“Yeah.”

He went quiet and nodded. A slow, “Okay” left his lips.

They stared at each other until both smiled again.

However, as Shouyou stared at Atsumu’s perfect pearly teeth and strong cheeks, his long regal body stretched out against the white ground, his stomach fluttered and his heart began to kick like a rabbit against his rib cage. It made his cheeks feel hot even though snow kissed the ground.

At that moment, Shouyou thought that Atsumu was the most beautiful thing he ever saw.

-

He had been just about to leave when a familiar face met him at the top of the stairs.

He smiled wide and waved at Atsumu, “Hi! I almost thought I might not see you today.”

Atsumu didn’t smile back. His face remained carefully blank and deceitfully open, relaxed but not betraying of any feelings. He stared and stared and Shouyou felt an undue sensation of spiders crawling over his skin.

“You’re not Atsumu,” Shouyou realized.

A small twitch of the boy’s lips pried through his indifferent mask. Brown eyes (charcoal brown, not golden) glimmered with something and his dark hair (almost black, not gently lightened) shifted over his forehead as he dipped forward a bit.

“No. ‘Tsumu is occupied today. I thought I would meet the human who interests him enough to go into the village every night,” the boy said with a regal speech that almost waltzed right over Shouyou’s head.

If Atsumu were autumn— gentle breezes and warm, homely feelings— this boy was winter. Cold, almost inhuman eyes and too sharp teeth ready to bite through Shouyou’s skin and expose his blood to the frigid air. He spoke like he knew something that Shouyou didn’t, knew many things that Shouyou never would.

“What’s your name?” Shouyou asked.

“You don’t need to worry about that, Ohi-san,” the boy said.

When Shouyou blinked, the ground in front of him was bare. Not even footprints were stamped into the snow.

-

“He could kill you.”

“Yes.”

“You would let him?”

“I don’t know. I just want him to be happy.”

“... Chichi-ue would not be pleased.”

“I know.”

-

As winter dragged on, Natsu grew sicker and Shouyou feared that she would be gone by the time the snow melted. She barely gained consciousness long enough to eat during the day and was kept awake at night by violent coughs. He wore his nails down to the beds and hardly got up to leave her side save to make an offering once a week.

He had not seen Atsumu since he met the boy who looked like him some weeks ago but Shouyou continued to go. He even went to the shrine for Hatsumode when the new year came.

His friends took to visiting more often to keep him company. Yamaguchi and Yachi brought soups and sympathy. Kageyama brought blankets and well-wishes. Tsukishima brought stories and— Stories. Stories that he read to Natsu from books.

“Tsukishima, can you read?” Shouyou asked just before the boy left for the night.

He received a look that asked of his intelligence. Tsukishima paused in pulling on his shoes and smiled falsely, “What does it look like I do every other day?”

Shouyou grew flustered, “I only want to know if you could teach me.”

“No. I don’t want to trouble myself with something as fruitless as that.”

“Please! I— I want to know what this says!”

He pulled out the note that he once found wrapped around the stems of pretty yellow flowers.

“Then have me read it,” Tsukishima said. He lifted a long arm and snatched it from Shouyou’s hands. He squinted a bit at the page before a wide, leering simper stretched his face, “Since when did you receive love notes?”

Shouyou went red, “Don’t tease me!”

Tsukishima clicked his tongue, “I’m not. But you should read this yourself.”

“I _can’t_ , that’s why I asked for you to teach me!”

“And I will,” Tsukishima said, returning to his towering height. He slid the door open and the snow on the ground in front of him looked as if gold dyes directly from the sun blanketed over it, “I’ll come tomorrow with ink and parchment.”

-

Slowly, Shouyou learned to read. He practiced identifying manyogana and their sounds at any chance he could. It was hard and he couldn’t always quite remember which character made which sound but within two weeks he could read basic words. It helped for him to also teach Natsu in the small increments of the time she woke up.

But Atsumu hadn’t written his note in manyogana, he wrote it in kanji which Tsukishima only knew through years and years of studying.

The only thing Shouyou could make out was “flower” and “Ohi-san”.

-

When Shouyou saw Atsumu next, he confessed his worries about Natsu.

“Kageyama’s sister is a healer, she said that Natsu might not make it to see spring.” He leaned forward, hugging his legs with his chin rested atop his knees.

Atsumu said nothing for a moment before he lifted a large hand to smooth out a crease in his hakama, “Have you tried to bring her here for healing?”

“No, it uhm… she’s too frail to move right now,” Shouyou lied and immediately felt it burn his conscious.

“Right.”

Quietly, Shouyou squeezed his legs. Even though the snow under him soaked and chilled his rump, even though the world looked barren and slumbering, he wished that spring would never come if it meant his sister would live.

He jolted when a heavy arm wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him into a warm-bodied embrace. Shouyou lifted his head to look at Atsumu who had an unsure, tense expression. Atsumu seemed to debate something for a moment before a hand settled on Shouyou’s hair and fingers sunk through the strands.

Shouyou bit the inside seam of his lip and ducked his head into Atsumu’s hold.

He cried.

**Author's Note:**

> *Uncooked rice as offerings: historically, devotees would cook the rice before offering it  
> *Manyogana: this is the script that came before hiragana and it is essentially a phonetic usage of Chinese characters to convert Japanese into writing. it was used popularly up until the Meiji era but kanji is traditionally used for court purposes.  
> *Chichi-ue: very, very formal way of saying father; literally means something like "father above [me]". it's only used for "sophisticated" and high class families.  
> -  
> tbh this is the brain child of my playing 対馬の幽霊, disappointment of not being able to go to obon, and my sudden intense infatuation with atsuhina. while this is also loosely based off of my own experiences at shinto shrines i haven't ever visited a shrine in japan so im sorry if anything is off but hopefully it's not too off ? hopefully i get to go one day but that seems nowhere nigh unfortunately.  
> you can find me on twitter if you're interested [@umchickwen](https://twitter.com/umchickwen) ! i don't do much aside from tweet brain vomit that may or may not be related to writing and other pursuits. thank you for reading ! :)


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